The True Lion
by VampireBat
Summary: Facing adversity is not easy, but the true lion always overcomes. Neville Longbottom's long and cruel last year at Hogwarts. Warning! DH Spoilers!


Hey all! Padme here, bringing you another HP fanfic. This one stars the loveable Neville. Want to know just what happened at Hogwarts while Harry was away? Here it is.

* * *

"I don't think Hogwarts will be the same." The old woman looked down her nose at her only grandson. He was a good boy, brave-a little forgetful, pudgy, maybe-but a good boy all the same.

Neville Longbottom sighed. He paused from his packing, holding his socks, avoiding his grandmother's fierce eyes.

"I know, Gran." He placed the last socks into his trunk. They were white with a light blue pattern around the top. The reminded him too much of those eyes. They haunted him in his dreams, their twinkle forever dimmed with an overcast of death and decay. Those eyes that once held him, enthralled, while giving as much comfort as eyes possibly could, were now buried beneath six feet of earth in the place he so loved. He shut the trunk with slightly trembling fingers and sat on his bed, carefully not facing the old woman who presided over his door frame.

The large room seemed more like a greenhouse than a bedroom. Large creeping vines hung in simple planters from the ceiling, their tendrils snaking down the pastel blue walls in artful swirls. The floor had been covered in a thin layer of soil and compost, and had allowed grass to spring up, giving the room a soft, natural carpet of greenery. All sorts of magical plants had begun to cover the ground, the prettiest flowers nestling in the corners. The wall opposite the doorway was a single pane of magicked glass that let sunlight stream in during the day. Now, though, you could see the stars gleaming in the velvety black sky. Most of the flowers were closed for the night; the venemous tentacula creeping down the walls was emitting small grunts, and there was definite snoring coming from the mandrake's pot near the window.

Neville absently pet his mimbulus mimbletonia, which crooned softly at the gentle touch. He could hear Trevor scurrying under the dark confines of his bed. His wand, cherry and unicorn hair, lay next to his trunk. Since he had turned seventeen exactly one month ago, he had been doing everything in his power to protect his beloved plants. He placed a shield charm around the window, for extra protection, and he had found this nifty spell in one of his herbology textbooks that gave the plants that needed it 24 hours of sunlight and water at the exact moment they needed any. This year, his mandrake would not die due to starvation.

A new sneakoscope sat upon his dresser, still and calm. After all, his family was a rather famous and illustrious one-that, and, the Death Eaters knew he was violently opposed to them-so he decided a little more protection was for the better. He had found a book in the study downstairs that previously belonged to his mother, full of jinxes, counter-curses, and the general Auror's spellbook. He had been reading it and trying the spells, breaking the glass wall accidentally once or twice.

"Hogwarts without Dumbledore...of course, it's run before he was headmaster, but still..." His grandmother broke his reverie. Now Neville turned to look at her, surprised at the weariness in her voice. True, his grandmother was old, older than most people nowadays, but Neville rarely saw her in such a manner. She was an old lioness with a stuffed vulture on her head, fierce and proud. Augusta Longbottom was no old lady.

Now her eyes were filled with an emotion he rarely saw. Her face seemed ancient, nearly slipping off of her high cheekbones with the weight of the world. That is what aged her-the immensity of the situation. A dead Dumbledore, so long the symbol for all that was good in the world, the symbol for protection and neverending triumph over evil. Her body seemed to have given up all hope, simply being too tired to continue its search for good. However, Neville knew her mind had not lost the battle against age, or against evil.

"Maybe with Minerva as Headmistress there will still be peace." she said, sounding slightly hopeful. He nodded. Maybe Professor McGonagall would step up, restoring the castle to order under her watchful, bespectacled eyes. Then he remembered Snape.

Professor Severus Snape had made his long years at Hogwarts a living hell. He had constantly degraded, insulted, and belittled him. It was true that Potions had been incredibly difficult for him. He didn't like cutting up plants just so they could be another simple ingredient for some stupid concoction. They had their own properties, their own special, magical something. They were not merely for use in potion ingredients, something that he didn't think Snape understood.

Snape had killed Dumbledore. Neville had been there that night, had fought the Death Eaters, even stunned a few. Snape ran past, appearing as a sudden beacon, making them fight harder for the safety of their sanctuary. Then he ran past again, with that traitor Draco Malfoy, and all seemed well.

When the Death Eaters followed him, their hope vanished as quickly as they did.

But now, Snape would not be back at Hogwarts. Snape would be with his chums at Lord Voldemort's side, with Bellatrix Lestrange, that evil she-cow. The two people he hated more than anything on this earth would be laughing at His side about the death of Albus Dumbledore, perhaps even enjoying a spot of wine. Neville's face turned stony at the thought; his hands balled into fists; his knuckles turning a creamy white. But now the next time he'd see Snape was in battle, and then he'd be fully prepared to curse him into oblivion.

He did not notice his grandmother leave, his eyes trained on a vine three feet away from her. Lost in his memories, he barely heard the soft shutting of the door. Neville sank back onto his bed, staring up at the plant-life-covered ceiling blankly. Then, he felt something in his pocket. It was hot.

He blinked, startled, and hurried to retrieve the burning object. Neville held the faintly glowing galleon in front of his eyes, utterly bewildered. His galleon hadn't burned in over a year, since Harry decided to stop the DA meetings. He still missed them. As Luna had said, it was like having friends. Of course, they were all his friends, and he knew they liked Luna too. She was just so unused to people having nice attitudes towards her that she didn't seem to realize it.

As he watched, the lettering around the galleon, which usually read "In Magic We Trust", a new message was engraving itself into the gold metal.

_Is anybody there? I was reminiscing about the DA and everyone so I decided to see who still has their coins. Luna_

Neville stared at the coin for a moment, still quite stunned, and saw a reply.

_Luna? Is that really you? Ginny_

Luna? And Ginny, too? They, like he, still kept their coins on them, waiting for the slightest notice of danger or a meeting? Neville nearly knocked over his trunk in the eager motion for his wand, sitting up abruptly. He tapped the coin and wrote his own message.

_Got your messages, how are you guys? Neville_

_Ginny? Neville? How nice!_

_Neville! There's the most awful thing happening here. The Ministry has turned, if you haven't noticed yet. Luna was there, it happened at my brother's wedding. They're watching us. I wouldn't go back to school if Mum didn't make me._

Neville froze. The Ministry of Magic, turn? But..they said Scrimgeour retired...Could it be a cheap cover-up? First the school, then the entire government had crumbled to the Dark Lord's forces...

_Yes, Daddy and I always knew they were on the dark side._

_Luna, they aren't all on the dark side. Just the stupid people who took power. You there, Neville?_

He was there, but suddenly he wished he was far, far away. Was it this bad up in Bulgaria, or wherever Durmstrang was? Was there an evil uprising in France? Are people being killed, maimed, and generally tortured in the other magical communities of Europe?

_I've barely been out of the house, just once to get my school things. Are things really that bad?_

Neville's hands shook around the gold coin. He could almost hear the two girls, as if they were all back in Headquarters.

_Listen, we'll tell you on the train tomorrow, Neville. I gotta go bye! Ginny_

Neville and Luna spelled out their goodbyes. Then...that left them together, clutching their golden lifelines.

_Did you miss them too, Neville?_

He smiled. He didn't have to ponder her question; he knew exactly what she was talking about.

_Yes. Can't wait to see you tomorrow._

His palms sweat around the coin. What was he saying? Luna's a friend...she understands him, perhaps like no one else...

_Well, bye Luna._

Neville hurriedly stashed the coin in his pocket. He suddenly felt very warm. An image unfurled in his mind like a beautiful blooming flower. There was Luna, facing his right to curse a Death Eater back at the Ministry. She was calm, collected. There was no trace of fear on her face, only a strong determination.

He shook his head. Where did these thoughts come from? He got up, turned off the lights, and went to sleep, anxiously awaiting the next day.

* * *

Neville gasped for air, clutching his trunk with white-knuckled fingers. He'd passed his test a few weeks ago, but apparating still scared him. Any second now his world would go black, his precious air supply would run dry...

His grandmother patted him on the shoulder, silently motioning for him to continue walking, so as not to seem too suspicious. You weren't supposed to see people appearing out of thin air, after all. Within seconds the barrier was in front of his face, and Neville paused.

Now was the only chance, his very last chance, to simply turn the other way. To continue now would be the true test of his courage, of his willpower. He could stop now, pretend to have missed his train, and gone back home a scared, yet safer coward. He could sit at home, keeping his plants alive, and trying to keep himself alive. He could live in hiding, away from the wizarding community that seemed so intent on destroying itself. He could...he could...

But the hand on his shoulder seemed to read his mind. It squeezed gently. He knew what its owner would say-to live up to his name, to become his father's true son. And he knew in his heart that he never would have turned aside, never denied his true identity for the sake of his own skin. His parents never did, so neither would he. With that, he took his first step forward into his fate.

The air was full of acrid smoke and the stench of unwashed pets. Unlike previous years, there were few people milling about, even though the train was not set to leave for another twenty minutes. Worried-looking parents were quick and frantic with their goodbyes, apparating or running out of the barrier almost immediately after their children boarded, unsure if they would ever see them again. Neville learned later that their fears were just.

With a flurry of robes Neville was pulled into a surprisingly tight embrace. His grandmother's arms were comforting, a sort of blanket keeping away the evils to come. He closed his eyes and relaxed in her grip. She smelled warm and of rich, creamy vanilla. He vaguely remembered how she put that certain spell on all her clothing, shunning ordinary perfume in favor of a much more long-lasting alternative.

"You take care of yourself, Neville. I know you can. You are, after all, your father's son." she said, so quietly he nearly didn't hear her. She pulled away, smiling slightly. He smiled back.

"I'll see you for Christmas." Neville said firmly. He tried to erase the lingering doubt in his mind. She nodded stiffly and, drawing herself up, turned on the spot and disappeared. Neville stayed, staring at the spot where Augusta Longbottom had been, wondering idly, as had nearly every other child there, if he really would see her at Christmas. He dragged his luggage towards the train and, with one last look, stepped onto the platform with a heavy heart.

* * *

There was no noise inside the loaded train. Patrols of weary prefects wandered up and down the aisle, reassuring those inside their compartments. Neville eased his way past them, smiling grimly at Ernie MacMillan and Terry Boot as they squeezed by. He wondered where Ron and Hermione were. Weren't they supposed to be patrolling as well?

He glanced inside compartment after compartment, noticing that most occupants were unusually still and silent. Perhaps they had lost family over the long vacation, or were just plain scared. Unease crept into his mind. Neville made his way to the very end of the train where he spotted a red-haired and blonde pair of girls sitting in a stall.

There was a frantic movement when he slid open the glass door. In an instant Ginny Weasley was up on her feet, wand pointed directly into his face. Luna Lovegood's face was surprised, her hand reaching absently for her wand.

Neville panicked. "Ginny!" he shrieked, dropping his things and pulling up his arms in self-defense. Her wand fell to her side and her mouth moved, but all he could hear was a faint buzzing sound. Puzzled, he opened his mouth to speak. Ginny waved her wand, making Luna's words audible mid-sentence.

"-so nice to see you." Luna smiled dreamily, her hands back on the Quibbler in her lap. Ginny flopped back down across from her. She looked pale under her freckles, and she definitely had the beginnings of dark circles under her eyes. Luna looked the same as always-vacant expression, glazed blue eyes, a calming sense about her.

"Sorry about that, Neville. Pansy Parkinson came around earlier and, well, you can't be too cautious these days." Ginny reset her spell as he closed the door behind him.

"I know what you mean." he murmured darkly. Ginny leapt up to help him pack away his luggage. Luna buried her nose in her magazine, not pausing to look up when Neville cautiously sat next to her.

"Dammit!" Ginny punched the upholstery to her side, her eyes flashing. Neville jumped in surprise; Luna didn't seem to notice.

"I wanted to go help Harry and Ron and Hermione! I didn't want to come back! But no, Ron could transfigure the ghoul and pretend to have god damned _spattergroit_ and go off with Harry to fight Riddle!" Her hands balled into fists, nails digging into her palms. Neville stared, unable to say anything that could be deemed smart or tactful. _She's the opposite of me,_ Neville thought absently. _She's ready and willing to go and fight him, and here I am, too scared to go through a damn magical brick wall._

"Wait. Where _are _Harry, Ron, and Hermione?" he asked. Of course-that's why he didn't see them on the train. They were off doing something brave and daring, and extremely dangerous, as usual. Ginny paled even more. Obviously she wasn't supposed to let those little details slip. Then she sighed.

"I don't know. The three of them disappeared when the wedding party was raided. Oh," she reached into her bag, "here, it's a picture." Ginny handed Neville a wizard photograph. Ginny and Luna, both looking absolutely stunning in gold and yellow, grinned at the camera. They danced and laughed in the moving picture, waving occasionally. The sunflower looked very nice against Luna's silvery-blonde hair, and it matched her pretty dress. In the background he could make out an elegant white tent and a crowd of merry witches and wizards, many with the traditional Weasley red hair. He barely saw Hermione and Ron dancing way in the back. They smiled shyly and laughed, flitting amongst the crowd. They all look so much older...

He handed the picture back. Luna peeked over the pages of the Quibbler, turning her head to look at him next to her.

"What have you been doing over the holiday, Neville?" She was calm, casual. It was almost as if the Minister hadn't "retired", if the ministry itself hadn't fallen.

"Oh..er...nothing, really." he mumbled. "What's been going on?"

Ginny told him the events of the summer, punctuated by the odd murmur of Luna, as heard by members of the Order and by her family in the ministry. Scrimgeour had not taken a leave due to being too old and too tired to continue working in the government; he had been murdered by the current minister. To Neville it sounded like the ancient kings of England; sons killing fathers for control of the country, only to be killed in turn by their own sons. Her brother had gotten married to that Fleur Delacour girl that was in the Triwizard Tournament, and the Ministry/Death Eaters- "Oh, who cares anymore, they're both the same now!" Ginny had said angrily-had raided the afterparty. Harry, who Luna said had been wearing someone else's skin- "Polyjuice Potion! Honestly, Luna!"- had escaped with Ron and Hermione, who had apparently been waiting for such a moment and brought all their things with them.

"So...generally, the government is being controlled by Riddle himself, and they're starting to round up all the muggle-borns and half-bloods. Dad said he was okay, our family's ancient, but others..." Ginny rubbed her eyes wearily. She glanced out the window. The castle was coming into view, slowly but surely. Neville looked as well. He gasped.

The castle itself seemed to be in the middle of a cloud. There was so much fog and mist that you could barely see the stone walls, only the shapeless forms of lights flickering from the windows.

"Are those..?" he asked quietly.

"Dementors." Ginny looked livid. "Dementors! At Hogwarts! Without Dumbledore! It was only a matter of time before they got to Hogwarts, too! Watch, we'll walk in through the gates and he'll greet us himself. 'Hello, children! Welcome back to Hogwarts, where you'll now be learning how to crucify and imperio filthy magic-stealing muggles! Won't that be just lovely?'" Her imitation was incredible-she could be his double. Neville saw tears forming at her eyes. It struck him then that she was alone there, for the first time in her life. Her brothers had all gone off to fight.

"Oh, don't worry, Ginny." Luna spoke up, closing her magazine. "I don't think he's in there." Ginny stared, lost for words as she struggled not to cry. He could see her lips puffing and turning pinker as the tears fought valiantly.

"Yes, don't worry, Ginny." Neville put a hand on her shoulder, giving her a little reassuring nudge. "Everything will be fine."

He wished he could believe himself. He wished he wasn't on this train, hurtling towards certain doom. But at least he was with his friends.

* * *

So? Did you like it? Is Neville just the kind of hero you expected him to be? Review, please!!


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